


The Space Inbetween

by Marthypie



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Bad date, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Freeform, Kissing, Kissing in the Rain, Wholesome, i'll add more tags once more chapters are done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 05:17:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21048935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marthypie/pseuds/Marthypie
Summary: Just a collection of Nero/Kyrie fics, focusing on their daily lives away from demonic drama. Will update tags as more chapters are added.





	The Space Inbetween

**Author's Note:**

> So as I’ve said before, I have a lot of feels regarding these two. I’m planning for this to be a multi-chapter project, but with lil self contained stories. They’re sort of connected but not like _directly_. I just wanna write nice things about them and not have to worry about like it all piling up into one big narrative, yanno?

  
Nero wasn’t good at romance. It always felt awkward, weird, like a dog trying to walk on its hind legs, all wobbly with unsure footing. The cynical part of him didn’t even want to bother, it just wasn’t his style you know? Some things were better left unsaid and if actions spoke louder than words then his were thunderous. Besides showy declarations of love always seemed so hollow to him, like there was something to prove. If anything it was just cringey. Often when he found the time to watch daytime TV he wished he hadn’t, it was always the same old story; boy meets girl, they fall in love, then they eat each others faces and get married. The end. Like that was something to aspire to, a gift wrapped romance with a pretty little bow on top. But it was so formulated, perfect and contrived that it made him wanna spit. Yeah no thanks, he was more than happy to keep on living in sin.

But sometimes, _sometimes_, he felt a little bad. Like he should at least make an effort, do something to make Kyrie feel special, to let her know that she meant the damn world to him. It wasn’t like he took her for granted, she had to know that he loved her, but deep down he felt as though that wasn’t enough.

And then one evening fresh after a hunt he made up his mind. He’d do it damn it, just this once. Just for her.

Still covered in dirt and grime he stomped out of the garage, his hands so deep in his coat pockets that he was almost up to his elbows. He was ready. He was gonna do it, straight up ask her out on a date and not of a run-of-the-mill one either. It’d be a fancy gig, with table cloths and champagne buckets, a dress code and haughty waiters with coiffed moustaches. It was all coming together in his mind, just like he’d seen on TV. As Nero bent down to untie his boots he realised that he’d have to wear a shirt and tie, that he’d have to dress the part of Casanova too. Fuck. The thought made him grimace so hard his cheeks ached. It was almost enough to make him want to back out, after all there was only so much he was willing to do for love...but he supposed he’d deal with it for one night.

Leaving his boots on the doormat Nero stepped into the kitchen. Quaint was the best word to describe it, small but homely with just enough room for the table in the centre. When the kids weren’t around there were only two chairs pulled up and just as he’d expected Kyrie sat there with her back to him, flitting through a clothing brochure with a red sharpie in hand. She wasn’t stealing designs, simply borrowing them. She must have heard him as she half turned and smiled, all warm and earnest, like he was the best thing she’d ever seen and Nero fell in love all over again.

Kyrie had a way of disarming him, of reducing him to his base elements. But it didn’t feel intrusive, wrong, like she was seeing something she shouldn’t. It was all for her. She was just so stunning it was like he’d taken a fist to the stomach, the wind was knocked right out of him. She was beautiful and floral, like spring, wearing a homemade blousy-dress that was cute beyond belief. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun and more than anything Nero wanted to push her bangs aside and kiss her. He’d never been that good with impulse control, barely a second passed before he decided to hell with it: he was gonna kiss his girlfriend.

“Hey.” Was all he said as he dragged a chair over with his foot and sat down.

He didn’t even give her time to respond as he was already leaning in close, slow and teasing. Anticipation mounted as he watched her and she him. Her eyes were watchful, curious, as she reached out and carded her fingers through his hair. It was a scene that played out pretty much after every hunt and yet it never got old or stale. A moment to reconnect, to know that they were both alive, that Nero would always return after a job well done. It wasn’t even a routine anymore; it was simply how things were meant to be, their way of life and an irrefutable fact.

“Hey you.” She said, her voice airy with laughter.

Two normal, _human_, hands cupped her face as he closed the space between them. Their lips touched, chaste and sweet, maybe a little tentative. But he could never leave it at that, nor would Kyrie let him. She deepened the kiss, tugging at his hair as she kept him close, her tongue swiping along the line of his lips. Nero sighed into her, his lips parting as his tongue met hers, not so sweet anymore; his hands wandered from her cheeks to rest upon her hips, soft and feminine with just the right amount of squish. He didn’t need to think, it was so beautifully simple: one move in response to another. The two of them, skin on skin, so close it was hard to tell where she ended and where he began. He pulled back, his cheeks flushed pink as he took in the sight of her, all blushy and breathless as she looked up at him through her lashes. And then he kissed her again, and then again just cause he was greedy.

“You wanna go out tonight?” He asked cool and casual, leaning against his elbow like he was one suave bastard.

“Out?” She twiddled the pen between two fingers, picking up on his playful mood.

She was doing it again. His bravado, his certainty crumbled and once more she left him feeling like he was nineteen. Awkward and a little insecure.

“Yeah, like on a date.” He swiped his nose with his forefinger. Old habit, he supposed. “Somewhere fancy.”

“Hmm.” Kyrie put down her pen and set her sights on him. In moments like this Kryie was a near spitting image of Credo, all authoritarian with her brows arched and lips pursed. She could have ordered him to jump and he would’ve asked how high. Instead she smiled , brushing aside whatever had been on her mind. “I’d like really like that.”

“Right. Great. Be ready by six.”

* * *

Nero felt like an idiot. Kyrie might have taken a while to get ready but he was taking a lifetime. It wasn’t that he couldn’t dress himself, rather every time he glanced in the mirror he hated what he saw. He’d begrudgingly accepted it in theory but now that he was actually wearing a shirt and tie he wanted nothing more than to rip it off and shove them into the depths of the closet where they belonged. It would just be so much easier to throw in the towel and order a pizza but he’d promised and Kyrie was out in the living room waiting for him. If he let her down now he’d feel shitty about this forever, the least he could do was keep his damn words.

Cursing under his breath Nero tucked in his shirt. He wore a basic ensemble, a black suit and tie with matching loafers, like he was a knock off Blues Brother. The material was stiff and plasticy and his tie was way too short no matter how he knotted it. In all he looked cheap, stupid, and very flammable. There was no saving this, he was a lost cause if he’d ever seen one but what was he gonna do, rock up to the restaurant wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Yeah right. If Nero could fight hordes of demons the least he could do was put up with a shitty suit for one night.

On the other hand, Kyrie looked gorgeous.

Nero’s jaw nearly hit the ground when he saw her. If he looked cheap then Kyrie was priceless. She stood by the window looking up at the sky, her brows drawn in thought as she fiddled with her necklace, the little clinks filling the silence. Her dress was a deep, dark blue, shoulder-less with short lace sleeves and a flared skirt that flowed over her hips down to her knees. She’d undone her hair and like a veil it roved over her shoulders and down her back, long and flowing and oh so soft. She was… try as he might no words came to Nero’s mind, nothing that really cemented just how beautiful she was, how lucky he was to have her in his life.

“I think it might rain.”

Nero’s heart hiccuped in his chest. How long had she known he was there? Shaking his head he stepped into the living room, his hands buried in his pockets as he joined her at the window. Sure enough it was grey as hell outside with clouds like muddy cotton balls.

“Yeah probably.”

Kyrie turned to him, her gaze roamed over his form, starting at his shoes and working its way up to his face. Despite himself he squirmed under her scrutiny, there was no judgement or disapproval but next to her he felt inadequate, under dressed, like a peasant in the company of a princess. Kyrie seemed to like what she saw. Her smile was coy as she smoothed out his lapels, her hand lingered on his chest before it slipped down to his pocket and found his hand. With a reassuring firmness she pulled it to her side and gave it a squeeze; and just like that Nero stopped giving a damn.

“Come on,” she said, leading him to the front door.

Right, they had somewhere to be.

The restaurant itself was pretty much what you’d expect when it came to fine dining. Fancy and pretentious, with big glass windows at the front to show off how much of a good time everyone inside was having. Standing outside beneath the overhang was a waiter; Nero tried not to notice that his suit was better than his own, pressed and proper, probably worth more than Nero earned in a month. Nero got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t welcome. His skin crawled as the man squinted at him, his mouth down turned in a snooty sort of scowl. Nero didn’t make a habit of being a dickhead for no good reason but this guy rubbed him in all the wrong ways, he hadn’t even said a word let alone given the man a reason to get all pissy. Yet there he was, looking at Nero like he was dirt.

“Table for two.” Nero hissed, his glare scathing.

Kyrie sighed and tightened her grip on his arm.

And then the man did the unthinkable. His gaze flickered to her and that judgemental, nasty, look of his remained. What was his fucking problem? If he didn’t have one then he sure would soon if he kept glaring at Kyrie like that.

“I’m sorry,” the man drawled, as though apologising was beneath him. “We don’t have any available tables.”

“There’s plenty! Look!” Nero stabbed a finger over the waiters shoulder.

“Sir, they are reserved.”

And sure enough in the centre of the tables were little white plaques with the word “reserved” written in golden cursive. When faced with logic all Nero could do was huff and puff. It was his fault for not planning this out, for not calling ahead like any normal person would but he’d sooner rip off his own arm then admit that to this prick. His hand clenched white at his side as he grit his teeth. It was all falling apart and Nero was about to lose his shit.

“Why you-”

“Nero.”

He turned to Kyrie, his expression tight; the devil within him clawed to the surface as snappish words formed on the tip of his tongue. Did she really think he’d let this slide? Did she know him at all? Yeah... she knew him too well, she knew all the buttons to press and Nero liked it that way. He let out a long withering sigh as he deflated, he couldn’t say no to her, it just wasn’t in him and it wasn’t like he really wanted this anyway.

“Come on, let’s go.” Her words were as soft as ever but left no room for argument.

The rain began to fall in earnest. Instead of heading home they found themselves in the park, soaked to the bone and sitting on a bench beneath an old oak tree with trailer hotdogs on their laps. Nero had given her his jacket to drape over shoulders like a cloak, it didn’t do much to keep her dry but at least she wouldn’t get as cold. It was the least he could do really. They sat in silence, shoulders touching, as Kyrie tried not to spill ketchup on her dress. It was easier said than done by the looks of it. Nero on the other hand, ate with no shame, so what if he ruined his shirt, he hated the damn thing and planned on throwing it out when they got home anyway.

Kyrie didn’t _seem_ mad but she hadn’t spoken a word either. If anything, he assumed that she was disappointed, embarrassed maybe? He was itching to ask but for the life of him he couldn’t think of a way to without coming across like a snivelling wretch, like he was about to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness. Cause he was sorry, really really sorry, but blurting it out like that seemed so fake, like he was apologising because that was what he was supposed to do. Nero scrunched up his hotdog wrapper and tossed it into the bin, fist pumping when it landed right where he’d wanted it. Time to bite the bullet, he guessed.

“So-”

“Maybe this is for the best.” Kyrie said, pensive, as she looked up at the sky through the branches. “That place...it wasn’t really us was it?”

“Yeah. I just...wanted to try, I guess.” He itched his nose.

“Mmm I know.” She gave his shoulder a gentle bump as she put her half eaten hot dog aside. “Thank you for trying.”

Okay this wasn’t so bad. Nero could deal with this, in fact he liked it a lot. It reminded him of their early dates, awkward little meetups where neither of them really knew what they were doing. They’d always been so sneaky about it too, making sure that they met up in spots that were away from The Orders prying eyes and ears. And even after all the wooing and courtship he’d still been too much of a pussy to kiss her, it was only when he’d almost lost her that he’d found his balls. Funny that. So much had changed since then, yet so much had stayed the same, like the universe had found its equilibrium.

“No problem.”

“And I think...you really do look handsome.”

“Yeah?” Nero’s brows shot up at that.

She nodded and her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of red. Okay, maybe he didn’t hate his suit quite so much. The same could be said for her though. Sure, her hair was soaked through and her makeup smudged around her eyes and lips but even disheveled she was beautiful.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” He concluded.

“You don’t have to. I’m a mess, I know.”

“Makes two of us then.”

Kyrie hummed in agreement and then she kissed him. There was no build up, no tension or anticipation; just a pure and simple act. Their date had shifted into something that felt natural and familiar. It should have been obvious all along that pretending to be someone they weren’t wouldn’t make them happy, that if their way wasn’t broken then why fix it. Despite the cold, the wind and the rain Nero felt nothing but heat. He kissed her fervently, gripping the back of her neck as her hands delved beneath his shirt, her fingers fanning out against his chest. She traced the lines of his ribs, working her way down till she reached his stomach, a spot where he was particularly ticklish. He squirmed against her, shrinking away a little only to be lured back with an apologetic kiss. And then another and another until Nero forgot who he was.

It was getting hot and uh...his trousers were starting to get a little tight. Ahem. The park was empty enough, no one else was mad enough to stay outside in this weather, but was now really the time or place? Probably not. He was tempted to just hoist Kyrie over his shoulder and make a run for it, but he didn’t think she’d like that very much so he came up with a better, less manhandly solution.

“Come on,” Nero crouched down and hooked his arms at his sides. “Climb on.”

“What?!” Kyrie stifled a laugh behind her hand, though she was already stepping up behind him.

“It’ll be quicker this way. Plus don’t wanna ruin your pretty dress.”

“Uh huh.”

His grin was wide and beaming, like the cat who ate the canary. “Was thinking we could have a shower then watch a movie.” It’d be a bit of a squeeze but he was sure they’d both fit. “That sounds like us right?”

Kyrie pretended to think. “Yeah, it does.” She climbed on and looped her arms around his neck and Nero decided that having her in his arms was the best thing ever.

**Author's Note:**

> I hate describing clothes with a PASSION so [heres](https://image.dhgate.com/0x0/f2/albu/g7/M01/BE/71/rBVaSVurNY6ABPBJAAZj7RhjK5o073.jpg) a picture to give you an idea of what Kyrie's dress was like.
> 
> Also lemme know what you thought! Comments and kudos really help me get off my ass and write.


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